The sky above the Sanctuary of Sixteen was cloudless, bathed in a pale morning gold.
The council was long over. The sacred vows had been spoken. Sixteen Divine Beasts, ancient stewards of the world's primal powers, remained in reverent stillness, scattered in a loose ring around the cradle of fate—where, nestled in golden and rune-lined silk, the Godborn slept.
But this morning, he did not slumber for long.
He stirred with a soft breath, tiny fingers flexing. One horn barely peeked from the curls of snow-white hair upon his brow, catching the sun with a glint of black-gold. As his mismatched eyes—ruby and amethyst—fluttered open, the air shifted.
The Sanctuary exhaled.
Nyx'Zari, seated at the heart of the mosaic circle, had not moved since nightfall. Her massive serpentine body coiled protectively around the boy. One eye remained on him, the others— watching the beasts.
Vaerokh stood just behind her, his four wings wrapped tight against his blue obsidian-scaled frame like a fortress of stillness. His golden gaze, piercing and eternal, never left the child.
"He awakens earlier," Nyx whispered. "Stronger than yesterday."
"He knows they're here," Vaerokh murmured. "He feels them watching."
As if in answer, the child turned his gaze—not towards them, but toward the ring of the other beasts.
He saw them.
And one by one, they approached.
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Sylvarion – The Greenwood Colossus
The great elk stepped forward in silence. His antlers, impossibly vast, branched like living trees, moss and white blossoms hanging from them like hanging gardens. As he neared the child, the flowers on his horns bloomed anew, bathed in mana.
Sylvarion lowered his massive head, his snout mere feet from the boy's cradle.
The child raised a tiny hand.
A golden-green light shimmered from his palm—soft, gentle, and ancient.
Beneath the boy, the stone of the sanctuary trembled. From the cracks in the mosaic, vines erupted—laced in faint silver, blooming with bioluminescent leaves and tiny blue petals.
Sylvarion exhaled.
"The forest greets this child like an old friend." the beast said "It answers to him."
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Kael'sari – The Burning Huntress
The sanctuary dimmed slightly as Kael'sari prowled forward—her massive flame-pelted frame radiant with sweltering heat. Her long, feline body rippled with power, fire trailing behind her steps like a smoldering wake.
She paused, her muzzle inches from the baby's outstretched hand.
He did not flinch.
Instead, his body pulsed with warmth. A tiny pop echoed—and a faint ember appeared at his fingertips, not summoned, but willed into existence.
It danced upward, curling like a tiny fire spirit, golden-white in color. Kael'sari watched it, her ears twitching, her molten eyes narrowing.
The fire answered his presence—but burned hotter than any flame she knew.
"That is not mimicry," Kael'sari growled. "That is true connection to the hearth of the world ."
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Mirelya – The World Serpent of Tides
Water rippled unnaturally across the sanctuary's stones, flowing where no pool existed. From that water, the towering, serpentine form of Mirelya slithered into view—her form shifting from deep blue to silver with every coil.
She coiled nearby and opened her gills, letting a mist of sea-salt breath roll over the child.
The boy inhaled.
And hummed.
A melodic tone, soft and low—almost a song—resonated from deep within his chest.
In answer, the mist around him crystallized into droplets, forming a sphere of suspended water that floated above his heart.
It shimmered with a pulse.
A heartbeat.
Mirelya reared her head back slightly.
"The heart of the ocean lives in him," she said slowly. "But deeper… something even greater stirs beneath it."
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Durmund Stoneheart – The Forgefather
From the shadows of the eastern archway came the thunder of heavy footfalls.
Durmund approached with deliberate weight, every step echoing through the stone. His massive bulky frame, plated in layers of enchanted obsidian and molten ore, made the earth beneath him tremble.
He dropped a single rune-forged shard—a glimmering obsidian fragment—beside the child.
The moment it touched the mosaic, the baby's eyes flashed with silver light.
The shard cracked.
From its core, liquid metal poured out, hovering midair like molten mythril before hardening into a hovering medallion. It spun once and then hovered above the boy protectively.
Durmund's throat rumbled.
"He bends the bones of the world," the dwarf-beast muttered. "Even without touching them."
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Korr Wildmane – Alpha of Beasts
Korr strode forward, the sanctuary filling with the scent of fur, musk, and wildness. His hulking wolf-lion body was adorned with sacred warpaint, his mane braided with bones of ancient prey.
He growled low—not hostile, but testing.
The child growled back.
A perfect mimic, but… not a mimic. It was real. A faint guttural sound of defiance, echoing from a chest too small to hold it.
The Divine Beasts stilled.
Korr laughed and nodded his head in response.
⸻
Altairn – The Celestial Roc
A powerful gust swept the sanctuary.
From above descended Altairn—the largest of them all—wings wide enough to eclipse half the circle. Feathers of starlight and gold shimmered with every beat.
He landed with the grace of the heavens, folding his wings as he gazed down.
The child looked up… and giggled.
Then, his body lifted.
Not by spell. Not by aid.
The air beneath him rose to meet him, swirling under his form. He floated a few feet above Nyx'Zari's coil, tail dangling, eyes wide.
A chime of wind echoed faintly.
Altairn did not move.
"He does not even need wings," the bird rumbled.
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Xan'thuul – Lord of Darkness
From the far edge of the circle, the temperature dropped.
Xan'thuul rose from a crack in the sanctuary stone, his sinuous, scaled mass gleaming with black-maroon sheen. He did not approach. His eyes, golden and slitted, watched.
The child turned toward him—then blinked.
A flicker of shadow spread across the baby's back. Tiny tendrils licked at the air around him before vanishing just as quickly.
Xan'thuul said nothing.
But he nodded once.
One by one the others came and went
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The Transformation
The elemental murmurs faded. The beasts watched, breath held. The air buzzed, filled with the charge of awakening.
Then—
The baby yawned.
His eyes fluttered… and his form shimmered.
In a blink, his entire body shifted—his limbs shrinking, his wings shrinking to small flutters, his horns curling slightly inward. His skin gained a soft sheen of gold and black scales, and his eyes went wide in wonder.
He floated, now in a form no larger than a melon—a tiny draconic demon, drifting midair, tail twitching.
Kael'sari made a sound between a snort and a gasp.
The child hiccupped.
And then—sneezed.
A puff of harmless elemental mana shot out, and he went spiraling midair, twirling like a spinning ember.
Vaerokh reached out just in time to catch him in one massive clawed hand. The boy landed, still in this small draconic form, curled in a ball… and began to snore.
The beasts fell silent.
A long pause passed.
Then Durmund's deep rumble echoed:
"…Ain't never seen that before."
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Night fell and the moonlight kissed the sanctuary stones, reflecting off Vaerokhs scaled form.
Nyx'Zari lowered her head, gently nudging the sleeping child in Vaerokh's palm.
"He's not ready for the world," she whispered.
"But the world," Vaerokh replied, "is already preparing for him, so we must make sure he is ready to meet it."
The Divine Beasts remained still, the wind quiet, the light warm.
And the child—cradled in power, legacy, and love—dreamed peacefully beneath the watching stars.
⸻
End of Chapter 5 – "Embers of Awakening"